


(Don't) Hold your Breath

by Taldan



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 01:31:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18885391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taldan/pseuds/Taldan
Summary: A fic inspired by fact that Alex is the only bachelor to have his bedroom lap beside his bed.





	(Don't) Hold your Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Heya~  
> This work hasn't been read by a beta reader, just so y'all know. I'm extremely grateful for people pointing out typos and the like. I've tried to stay as true to Alex as I can, while still elaborating a bit on his past and how it may have affected him.

It's midnight, and Finnegan should be asleep by now. And he would be, but there’s something bothering him tonight. Not a thing, but a thought. More specifically a thought regarding a certain someone. Finnegan sits up in his bed and when the sheets rustle he reminds himself that, no: it's  _ their _ bed.

He looks at the bedside table, at the lamp that stands there. It gives off a warm glow, and if he concentrates for a bit he can feel the warmth: a soft buzz that made the solemn darkness outside a bit more bearable. He understands, in moments like these, in the solemn quiet of midnight, why its still alight. He'll claim it's for his sake, even though it isn’t— because he understands. He also knows Alex might never openly admit he needs it. He might even go as far as denying it outright if Finnegan would confront him. He was just that kind of guy. The one who to put on the tough guy act in order to suppress all their feelings. The one to fight the tide instead of riding it.

But Finnegan had seen the lamp, and he understood.

And with that knowledge, compassion had sprouted. He also noted that when met by validation: Alex became more than willing to accommodate.

Essentially, to talk. 

It wasn't always possible to jump straight into the mind of the matter, though. Sometimes, or rather  _ most _ times, Alex needed to "cool off" before any talking could happen. Fortunately, talking wasn't necessary the way to solve all their problems. Some just needed a touch of  _ excitement _ , and they'd dissolve and get swept away by the air. Finnegan chuckled, thinking that Alex probably prefered those fights. He knew how to deal with those. And it's always more comfortable to face things you already know, rather than things you don't.

Alex didn't know how to open up. Or rather, he was unsure of that would happen afterwards. And that uncertainty made him afraid.

Finnegan wonders what it will take him to not be. Sighing, Finnegan rubs a hand along his face. He should sleep.

"Hey."

Startling, Finnegan nearly knocks over the bedside lamp at the interruption. He gives Alex a dirty look, "Could you atleast make some noise—"

Alex rolls his eyes, and watches him from the other side of the bed. His head is propped up with a pillow, and his hands are settled at the back of it. "Dude, you usually ace all your Z's."

Finnegan rubs his face again. "Yeah, well. Not tonight."

"Something on your mind?"

Finnegan pauses for a moment, hestinating. The question was spoken fleetingly, as if it didn’t really require an answer. But he knows how much of an reply is needed, with the way Alex is leaning slightly towards him, eyes scanning his face. So he nods, says "Yeah," before he leans forward and puts a light touch on the skin of Alex's throat. Silently, he murmurs, "you."

He feels the muscles rip as Alex swallows. Then he goes very still and silent. Finnegan pets his collarbone in soothing strokes until the next question follows. This time much quieter, "Why?"

Finnegan wonders if he can avoid this one, then feels stupid for thinking it. He wanted trust, after all. So he says, "Because you're my husband. And because I know you keep a lot to yourself. Things you shouldn't have to," he strokes Alex's collarbone, "— and it worries me."

Alex gaze flickers away, and settles somewhere on the floor. Finnegan can see how the cogs are turning inside his head. And when he senses the tension in his partners body, he puts a finger at the side of his face, on the cheek, and pokes. "Hey now. No excuses."

Alex looks at him then, and a shimmer of recognition passing over his face, "I wasn't—" he begins, still trying to deny what they both know to be true. Finnegan exhales and leans over to plant a kiss on the spot where his finger just rested. He trails it down to Alex's chin, and nibbles slightly on the skin there.

"If you say so," he murmurs.

Alex shifts front under him, then takes his arm and pulls him closer, their legs nestling together.

"Yeah, I  _ do _ ," he challenges, and Finnegan smiles, unable to hide his amusement by Alex's way of being: destructive as it may be.

"Wow, so feisty," Finnegan says, and earns a jab in the ribs. Swatting the hand away, he slides down Alex's body, and settles between his legs. Patiently, he places an arm across his partners stomach— to keep him from rising. Although, Alex could probably do that anyway if he really wanted to. "I know you don't often like to talk about ' _ deep stuff, _ " he begins, letting his fingers curl into the soft, fine hair on Alex's stomach, "but let me tell you I  _ really _ enjoy it when you do," his voice drops, and he kisses Alex's stomach. It ripples under his lips, and he feels more than hears the gasp that follows.

"Ah, geez," Alex breathes, "Enough already."

Finnegan stops, as if contemplating it.

"No," he says, and licks a stripe going from his navel and up. "I think you need someone to tell you these things."

Alex makes a noise and buckles his hips, "Ngh—" 

Finnegan looks at him briefly, and thinks he registers a small blush. But then, it's kind of hard to tell in the position he's in. Nuzzling the light crevice at the conjunction between his partners hips, he notices that some  _ other _ things might be kind of hard, too. God, Alex would hate him if he said that.

Feeling the expanse of his partners stomach quiver beneath his fingers makes Finnegan smile.  _ He's holding out well _ , "You're perceptive, yet you pretend not to be," Pressing tentative lips to the outline beneath those briefs, Alex squirms again, "and you pressure yourself into doing your absolute best, yet you're slow to take credit," he mouths at the material, dragging his lips back and forth, and Alex curses. "I hope you know I value your efforts. I take no offence if you need to slack off a day of two—" he crawls up his partners body, and cups the side of his face in one hand lovingly, "you absolutely deserve it." 

Taking in the way Alex looks makes his heart go soft, and he stops. His eyes, which are usually edgy are glazed over. His breathing is elevated, and his body moves as though he wishes he could melt through the covers— and hide there for an indefinite amount of time. Finnegan kisses his cheek again, and he whimpers like a young child. 

"Hey," the other man says, and slides his finger through Alex's hair, "it's alright."

His partner shakes his head, tossing about and messing up his hair. "No," he says, hoarsely, "No, it's not 'alright'. I—," he hits his head against the headboard, tears threading the outline of his eyes, "—Fuck!" 

Finnegan shushes him, going back to gently stroking his collarbone, "Shh, I hear you," but Alex's still shaking his head, burying his face in the crook of the other man's neck. "No, no," he mumbles. "I'm not  _ that _ ," he says, vaguely "you think I'm someone I'm not and it's wrong.  _ I'm _ wrong," he babbles. "I'm not good, I've never been. But you just won't stop believing I am and," he chokes back a sob, "It's not  _ right _ ."

Finnegan continues to make soothing noises, and pets Alex's hair, letting his nails scrape down along the nape of his neck. Alex shivers, and Finnegan feels smudges of tears on his shoulders.

"Hey now," he beings, "I've never said I'm not seeing your faults. I am aware of them," he says, and Alex stills against him. Waiting, "but I prefer to see your virtues over your vices, because I think that the change will be much greater if you come to term with them yourself— instead of being forced to do so by me," they rock slightly back and forth, and Finnegan adds "but that's not to say I demand you to change. If you choose to, I'll welcome it. But I'll be just as accepting of the person you are now."

They embrace each other for some time, until Alex says, "I don't—" drawing back, "I don't deserve you." Finnegan holds him still, furrows his brows and says "No. That's not for you to decide. I chose to be with you because I wanted to. Not because you  _ deserved _ it," he kisses the side of Alex's face. Feels the wonderful mix of softness and harsh edges there. He kisses him again, and Alex's face does something complicated before he turns his head away. Finnegan won't have it: won't have his partner denying himself the comfort and safety he needs, because of some old lesson he was taught as a child.

"Hey," he murmurs, and guides Alex's face back into the position it was before, "None of this is a lie on my part. From the moment I accepted your invitation to join you at the Stardrop Saloon, I also accepted you."

Alex's breath rushes out, and his eyes snap out of their previous disbelief and into embarrassment. But from the way his lips turn up into a quirky smile, it's the joyous kind, "Gee, dude," he mumbles, eyes flickering to meet Finnegan's before they dart away, "How long have you been rehearsing that?"

Finnegan smiles, "You don't need to rehearse words of truth, because they come from your heart— not your mind," he says, and batter his lashes, making Alex scrunch up his nose before inevitably descending into laughter. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he butts his head against the other man, still humoured, "Mhm, your heart tell you somethin' else, Finn?" 

The temperature rises at least a couple degrees as Finnegan slides his face to the side, and breathes down Alex's ear, "That I wanna make love to you, right here, and right now," he whispers, "do you want that? Do you want to feel how much I desire, and admire you? How much I love you?" Alex goes still, and Finnegan is quick to add, "but only if you want to. This is  _ not _ something you need to do in order to 'reconcile' over past behaviour, okay?" 

Alex visible deflates, then groans like he's in pain, tugs at his arm, entwining their hands together, "Yes," he hurries, and searches for the other man's lips "please—," he sighs at the touching of their lips, eyes fluttering shut. Then he proceeds to push against Finnegan, kissing him with a hunger that takes his breath away. Fiercely, like a man left with nothing to lose he says, "—make fucking love to me."

Finnegan breaks out laugh, feeling the glow of pleasant surprise tingle throughout his body, "Alright, alright," he says, and quickly moves to arrange the pillows comfortably, "lay down."

Alex does so in his usual way, but perhaps a bit more relaxed now, even though that regular stiffness is still there. They'll work that out of the way, soon enough. Finnegan opens the drawer and pulls out a bottle of truffle oil.

"Mayor Lewis has to wait just a few more days for his oil, I think," he says, as he settles between Alex legs once again.

Alex snorts, "We don't use  _ that _ much—," and Finnegan smirks, "Oh, trust me we will. I don't want you feeling any pain, dearest," caressing his inner thigh, and Alex rolls his eyes and buries his face in the crook of his arm, "Remind me why I married you."

"Oh, that's simple," Finnegan begin, and places his fingers at the side of his hips, teasing the fabric of the briefs. "Because of my obvious charm and my great skills in the kitchen," he murmurs, "annd, ah, other places—" he swiftly evades a kick from Alex, and pouts.

" _ Fine _ , I'll just jump right into it, shall I?" he says more than asks, and Alex glares at him, "Damn straight."

Finnegan removes the briefs so fast that Alex yelps as they fly over his head: landing on an unknown location somewhere on the floor. He looks at Alex's hardened cock, already leaking glistening precome, and smirks, "No, honey. It's pretty gay actually."

Before Alex has a chance to reply to that, he stretches out a hand and drags it up his partners chest, just as he licks from the base and up, grazing the head. Alex buckles, and wheezes something above him. He spends more attention than necessary, just tasting and exploring this beautiful organ— until Alex's thighs are a quivering mess of an invitation, calling out to him just as much as the muffled cries of his partner does.

With his tongue lazily lapping at the head, occasionally sucking, sometimes nibbling, he murmurs, "I could do this forever."

Alex huffs, frowns and twists as he chokes out a response, "Ah— Jesus, no," his forehead is damp with sweat, and he shakes his head, "Need you. I, ngh— want you, inside."

At this, Finnegan slips off his own briefs, and opens the jar of oil, "Patience, dear," he murmurs, dripping one finger into the oil, and letting it cicle Alex's hole just a moment before teasing its way in. His partner grimaces, breathing through his nose whilst getting used to the foreign digit. Well, perhaps not so foreign nowadays, Finnegan thinks, "Easy does it," he soothes, as he feels the muscles relax around his finger. He lets it slip in, and out, teasing the rim with his thumb slightly as he feels around inside.

When the second finger inserts itself, Finnegan kisses the lower stomach of his lover. "You're doing so good," and Alex moans, and buckles in his grip. " _ Hhaa _ , Finn, don't tease."

The other man chuckles, and searches around for the prostate, scissoring his fingers slightly, "It's no lie. You are doing well." He hears the sharp intake of breath as his long finger brushes against that sweet spot. It's like the domino effect, the way Alex's back arches, and how he clenches around him, keeping the fingers secured as the cry startles through him, " _ Ah! _ " 

As he eases up, Finnegan withdraw his fingers slowly, opening up the jar again, "So sensitive," he mutters, this time he takes care to coat all of Alex's cock with oil. He smears it out with gentle circles of his thumb. But Alex has obviously had enough as he catches his wrists and glares at him, "Dude, I'm good," he breathes, and rolls his hips to get some friction between them. It's not even a real rub up, but the intensity of Alex's glare makes Finnegan drop his own, and he feels his cock bounce between his legs— eager to be part of the action.

" _ Alex _ ," he begins.

He knows from the look on his partners face that he won't budge, and can only gasp as a hand encloses his cock: fingers sliding firmly up and down along the sides, nudging the balls with what must be the pinkie. "Get inside," Alex purrs, and kisses the back of his hand, "I'm wet enough," he continues, and places his other hand at the back of Finnegan's neck, pulling him even closer, "And besides… I  _ like _ a good stretch."

Alex gaze holds steady, eyes shimmering with confidence like he already knows the way this is going to play out. And god, he  _ does _ . Finnegan exhales, feeling his resolve crumble with an alarming rate. His legs go weak with the skillful stokes of his partners finger, and the alluring look sends chills down his spine. It makes him want in a way he didn't think was possible before. To love, almost to the degree you possess another being with completely.

As Alex unoccupied hand wanders to grasp one of his buttocks, he gasps. Alex grins, almost dopey with the way his pupils have expanded, and grips his ass with both of his hands, pulling their groins together. Their cocks rub against each other in sloppy perfection, earning him a hoarse cry. Hooking his legs around the other man's waist, Alex grind up against him, panting, "Gotta say your little man is  _ very  _ interested," his hands travel up the spine of his lover, and he looks at Finnegan, "Have a little compassion, will you?" 

Finnegan kisses him then, because compassion was the one thing he had, and oh, how he longed to give Alex what he wanted. As he picks Alex's hand from his back, and lays them down on the pillows, over his head— he spots great satisfaction in those green eyes. His eyes are hooded, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. "This how you want me?" he asks, but it's no question at all.

Positioning himself, Finnegan briefly looks down to see if he aligned himself correctly, before descending into the welcoming heat of his lover. He's still pinning Alex's wrists to the pillows, but the other man doesn't seem to mind. Rather the opposite, as Alex's eyes gloss over, before fluttering shut: he moans.

It's a tight fit, and Finnegan doesn't immediately slide in all the way. Instead of pressing on, he puts his forehead to Alex's, and begins to rock ever so slightly— getting further in with every motion of his hips. Alex is quick to meet his thrusts, and seals their lips together for a brief moment. His heels are digging into Finnegan's back as he draws him further, and further in.

"Ngh–" Alex holds back a gasp as his prostate is hit, and clenches around him. Finnegan is unable to stop the groan that vibrates through him when the walls constrict around him, and he pulls out briefly only to slam his way in again.

"Ha, ah, ahh—" Alex moans, switching between opening up and tightening around Finnegan in a way that drives him mad. The pressure on his back increases as they near their limit, and Alex nearly thrashes under him, quivering with need and want. He buckles and his shakes, and once his orgasm hits him, he arches in Finnegan's hold: it's a current that starts from the gasps of his mouth and ends at the curling of his toes. Finnegan comes shortly after, shaking and breathless as he spills his seed inside his partner, gasping as he goes. He puts his forehead on Alex's shoulder, and lets their breaths mingle.

Later, they relocate to lay side by side. The mess of the bed still unattended. And maybe it's the warmth from their exhaled air, but something grows in between them during the afterglow. Something akin to trust. The lamp showers them with its warm light, which will soon be joined by a far more brighter source of light— but never one this soothing.

"Can I turn off the light?"

"Sure, as long as you stay."

"I will." 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading~  
> |XOXO|


End file.
